


Dull Poison

by Ubdqelliot



Series: The Broken Lion [2]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Depression, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Self-Loathing, Suicidal Thoughts, astarion is only mentioned, just a slightest hint of ship, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 20:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ubdqelliot/pseuds/Ubdqelliot
Summary: After a busy second day, Leoth is left with some silent temptations as they rest in the grove. Thankfully, Gale is there to be a voice of reason.
Relationships: Gale (Baldur's Gate)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: The Broken Lion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206383
Kudos: 3





	Dull Poison

**Author's Note:**

> TW: suicidal thoughts

Your fingers danced around the cool glass of the vial in your grasp. Your mind was muddled with conflicting thoughts of _release_ , the pain of balancing everything on your plate suffocating. This wasn’t supposed to happen; you were just some miserable fool from Baldur’s Gate who, in the wake of losing almost everything he cared for, resigned to death. You weren’t important, never had been. Your suffering was only ever a manufactured story you told yourself to escape.

In spite all of that, everything had changed, had it not? You were plucked from the air and thrown on a mind flayer ship, given a destiny you wanted not to fulfill. You were given influence in this strange collective of people, trying to lead them to a salvation that may never come. Now, because of your naïve morality, you’d possibly doomed your party, all in an attempt to save some refugees nobody would miss and a druid circle that willingly followed a snake to their demise.

You loathed how you always involved yourself in other peoples’ problems.

The liquid in your grasp seemed so easy, you thought as you clutched your hands together around it. You could finish what you started and simply lie down, never to wake again. No mind flayer ship to rip you away, no _destiny_ to follow; you could simply drink and rest. Who were you to play the hero when you couldn’t even protect those you cared for most; who were you to save a group of people when you couldn’t even save yourself? Yes, all you had to do to reach salvation… was drink.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came a sudden voice that pulled you from your thoughts, drawing your eye over your shoulder. Your resident wizard stood a yard or so behind you, having pulled himself away from the comfort of the fire. Your eyebrows furrowed quizzically for a moment, putting the wyvern poison you’d received to the side. “I’m no fool, Leoth. I can see the longing in your eyes.” His own orbs narrowed at you, though his expression didn’t seem to hold the resentment part of you feared were across his features. Rather, in spite of the focus, his expression seemed soft as he approached, moving to sit on the fallen tree next to you. Resigning to having been caught and knowing there was no escaping further conversation, you brought the wyvern poison to your grip again, arms resting on either knee as you gazed at it in contemplation. Silence fell over the pair of you, though you knew it was but a matter of time before questions or a story came.

“Go ahead,” you eventually piped up, the pause deafening. “Tell me I’m weak. That I’m not fit to be a leader.”

“Oh, quite the contrary.” He seemed almost flippant about it, drawing your surprised gaze. His expression, in spite of the subject matter, seemed eerily relaxed. “You’re nothing if not human- er…” Gods, the stumble itself eased your tension, drawing a light smirk on your features as you watched him fumble for relative safety. If you were more yourself, you might’ve dared to laugh. “You know what I mean,” he eventually said, eyes darting to the vial. “It’s natural to want to choose the easier route.” _That_ , you did laugh at.

“I’ve not met a suicidal deer before,” you mocked, furrowing your brow. He hummed in amusement, though it seemed perhaps a bit in poor taste.

“Of all people, I’d figure a druid would be one to understand that _natural_ doesn’t necessitate animalistic parallels,” he mused, eyes trained on your figure. “Humanoid behavior is natural in its own right. Including struggle.”

Of course, you knew he was right. You’d preached similar word many times, reminding yourself until it no longer held meaning. Somehow, though, from _him_ , it didn’t feel like an echo. It felt _real_. “Lae’zel wouldn’t have hesitated,” you mumbled, a bit mournful. You knew she would’ve mocked you for being so _weak_ as to think of doing so and not following through; would’ve hissed that perhaps it was better for them all if you perished, as your mind was muddled and you wouldn’t be efficient enough. You almost wanted her to.

“No,” he agreed, leaning forward a bit to grow slightly closer. “But she’s not the one giving counsel, is she?”

 _No,_ no she isn’t. That was why he was here instead, reminding you just how _human_ you were. You weren’t a figurehead, nor a soldier. You were a _person_ with struggles, just as the rest of them. You were allowed to be weak, weren’t you? “I suppose there’s fortune in the fact she wasn’t present last night, as cruel as it is given where she was instead.” A silence draped over the two like a scratchy blanket, neither feeling exactly comforted but understood the intent.

“I believe there’s something to be said for the effort you’ve put in the past two days,” he piped up, glancing beyond the campsite to the speckle of tieflings finishing their night business with grim expressions. “Respect is something not given freely, yet without a doubt, your actions leave me inclined to offer. Not everyone would have launched to defend them, let alone use your limited magic to ensure their health.” His compliments left you in a slight blush; a part of you wanted to speak up against yourself, but it felt disrespectful to his gesture. “We aren’t the most moral bunch, but your actions have been selfless. I may even be so inclined to say I admire how you chose to carry our group about these folks.” A pause.

“Thank you.” Your voice was little more a whisper, trying to hold onto the compliments he’d given you throughout the day: a hint of a smile at your identification of the Jergal statue; a quick move to stand directly by your side in the battle that almost seemed like approval; his impressed conversation for diffusing the grieving sister; his bemused grin upon not only saving the child, but in understanding the gift of youth. His companionship made it all easier to swallow, knowing that through it all, _someone_ believed he was doing the right thing.

 _Ultimately_ , it wouldn’t matter, the dark parts of him whispered. Perhaps not, you agreed, but in this moment, it felt real.

At last, you put the vial within your pack, choosing instead to bask in the approval of your closest companion. That isn’t to say thoughts kept from your minds as you watched the grove quiet down in the dusk, a morbid understanding the second night of your journey brought. Words danced at the edge of your tongue, as it seemed to for your arcane companion.

Finally, you felt brave enough to speak. “We should be having greying skin by now.” Your eyes darted back towards him, curious and wary. He took a breath before nodding, concerned and curious.

“Even best case scenario, we should be miserable and ill. The fact we aren’t… were I a more faithful man I might call it a miracle.”

“You aren’t, I take it.” Though it was worded a question, you both knew it wasn’t.

“I am but a pragmatist. This… I see the calm before the storm. The longer it waits, the harder it will strike.” You nodded in agreement, concern settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Then we mustn’t wait,” you spoke, turning your body to face him and your pack, legs now folded. He watched you curiously as you dug through your pack, finding the fresh, yet worn piece of parchment your roguish companion had acquired earlier at your behest. “If we are fortunate, we can both follow through on one of our options and assist the grove. _Both_ parties of the grove.” Your gaze was fixated on his, fingers gripping the paper as if your life depended on it. “If I recall what Tian- _the bird_ told me about the area, the swamp is but a detour on the way to the goblin camp. We could take a day to head that way, follow through with Auntie Ethel and find who- or what- Kagha was supposed to meet.”

You were so caught up in your own thoughts and planning, you almost missed the gentle smile drawing on the brown-haired wizard’s lips as he listened.

Almost.

“Sounds like I’d better get some mud boots ready,” he teased, though didn’t rise from his spot. “I’m sure Astarion will be pleased.”

This brought a smirk to _your_ face. “Oh, I hope so.”


End file.
